


mental pictures that won't fade

by burajosty



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Boys Being Boys, Coming Out, Emotionally Repressed, Eventual Sex, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Pining, Showers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-09
Updated: 2021-02-27
Packaged: 2021-03-15 15:47:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28566432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/burajosty/pseuds/burajosty
Summary: He wants to choke on it. He can’t believe he’s thinking that, but he can’t help it. He wants to feel his cock hit the back of his throat. He wants to feel his eyes water as he battles to keep his lips on it. He wants to gasp and wheeze for air. He wants to taste him.But fuck, André thought.He’s Nathan fucking MacKinnon.(or the one where André walks in on Nate in the shower, and he's hard, and he suddenly has to confront the fact that he's been crushing on him for months)
Relationships: Andre Burakovsky/Nathan MacKinnon, J. T. Compher/Tyson Jost, Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Comments: 11
Kudos: 73





	1. Post-Game

**Author's Note:**

> hello this is my first (but def not last) hockey fic with a couple of my favorite boys... i'd appreciate any comments/advice! <3

He wants to choke on it. He can’t believe he’s thinking that, but he can’t help it. He wants to feel his cock hit the back of his throat. He wants to feel his eyes water as he battles to keep his lips on it. He wants to gasp and wheeze for air. He wants to taste him.

 _But fuck_ , André thought. _He’s Nathan fucking MacKinnon._

* * *

This feeling was relatively new, and André was still convincing himself it was accidental.

The Avs were riding high on a two-game win streak. They had had three days off before their next game – a home night game on a Friday against St. Louis. That night, Bednar had graduated Burky up to the first line in Landeskog’s place - just to try out a new lineup. Internally, André was freaking out because he got to play on the same line as THE Nathan MacKinnon, but externally he played it off like it was a customary thing. He was still in his first season with the team and while he’d finally gotten used to the idea that Nate was his teammate, he still hadn’t shaken the feeling that the team felt new – the feeling that he was a newbie – the feeling that this wasn’t all genuine.

Their chemistry during the game was electric - and they could both feel it. As did the crowd. They scored three goals in two periods between the two of them - always off an assist from each other. They were euphoric by the time the horn blared and the game had ended - MacKinnon and André each with two goals and two assists. André was bubbly. Nate was too. He immediately skated up to André and rubbed his helmet against the younger Swede’s. Their eyes met in joy before the rest of the boys on the team surrounded them. Landy wrapped his arms around Nate while Mikko grabbed André by the shoulders. They made their way off the ice, voices buzzing.

Quickly making his way to the locker room following a couple media interviews, André was feeling hot from the excitement and quickly took off as much of as uniform as he could. He watched as Nate’s actions emulated his own, but was distracted when Mikko threw a glove at him that smacked him right in the bridge of his nose.

“Hey, four points in one night. What the hell.”

André giggled. “I know right. I guess I’ve just been saving them up and cashed out tonight.”

“Wanna share some next time?” Mikko replied, beaming.

“I think you’re doing adequate yourself.” André replied. “What are you up to tonight?”

“Not much,” answered Mikko, “considering we’ve got a 7:45 practice tomorrow.”

“Who doesn’t love an early, Saturday morning workout?” André asked sarcastically.

"Me.” He laughed. “I’ll probably just head to Landy’s.”

Suddenly a very shirtless Nate was heading towards André.

André’s eyes instinctively dropped to the floor. Nate was nice, but still intimidating. “Good game, buddy,” said Nate as he held out a hand for a fist bump. André’s eyes shot up. Nate was smiling - not that Nate didn’t ever smile, but it was a rare sight. “I told you - you just gotta shoot more and you’ll be good. Glad to see your confidence is growing.” He said it with such conviction that André felt his cheeks get warm and he worried he was turning pink from the praises. Nate was never _this_ friendly to him. He realized he needed to respond, but Nate’s body was occupying most of his brain right now - not necessarily attraction, but more a feeling of fascination. André was muscular himself, he knew, but his height concealed it more. Nate, on the other hand, was built in a way that blew André’s mind. His shoulders were so broad, and the way his muscles sat on his torso just made him feel _massive._

André suddenly noticed Nate was still holding a fist up and looking at him expectantly. He completed the bump and quickly thought of a retort. “Well, with perfect passes from you, it’s hard to miss.” Andre smirked back. “I mean, they were like textbook perfect.”

“Oh, you’re too modest. Take the compliment, Burky,” insists Nate.

Suddenly it’s a game - and Burky loves games. “Alright, you’re right. I’m the best winger on the team. Thanks for your support.” André smirked.

Nate rolled his eyes, contemplating challenging him, but felt too proud of him to rain on his parade. “I’m not sure I said that, but if that’s what your ears heard...” He started heading back to his area, snatching a towel on his way. André noticed JT and Josty were looking over, giggling.

“Oh that’s exactly what they heard...” André countered as he watched Nate leave, noticing how Nate’s compression shorts left little to imagination. And how thick his fucking thighs were.

“Damn, I’ve never heard him be _that_ nice,” said Mikko, leaning over as he zipped up his bag. “He likes you.”

“He was being friendly.”

“Yeah, but it’s Nate. He’s not friendly to most people. The best I get is ‘good job.’”

“I’m sorry to hear that you aren’t getting complimented enough. I’ll send a text to the team and we’ll make sure to accommodate you right away,” replied André dripping in sarcasm.

“Ok whatever. See you tomorrow.” Mikko headed out.

André ran his fingers through his curls and realized he needed to shower as well. He grabbed a towel and undressed. He looked up and saw Nate had already headed into the shower room. Burky didn’t want to make it weird, so he waited a little bit to let Nate have his time.

He remembered, however, that Josty and JT had invited him over for what they liked to call a “midnight dinner” - whatever that means - and André needed to head home before because he had forgotten the housewarming present his sister had insisted that he needed to bring to the dinner. JT and Josty had just moved into a new apartment together for the summer and André had gotten them something for their new place.

With time running out, he suddenly felt he was being puerile for waiting for Nate to finish showering and decided just to head in. He turned the corner just as Nate was turning off the water. Reaching for his towel on the hook near the door, Nate was on full display for André as he walked in. Nate’s eyes lit up in horror as he saw André and he quickly grabbed his towel.

Nate’s frantic movement was due to the fact that he was 1) very hard and, now, 2) very embarrassed.

André had tried to look away but it was too late, and he suddenly had a mental picture of a naked Nathan MacKinnon at full mast. He was large, _everywhere_. André gulped as his eyes slid from Nate’s six-pack to his lengthy, hard manhood. It had to have been seven or eight inches at least – bigger than André’s and larger than any he had seen before.

He stood there – frozen – not gawking, but not looking away either. He didn’t know what to do with his eyes. Nate had covered at this point but a considerable bulge still poked through the towel. Mortified, Nate quickly left the shower, breezing past André on his way out. André stood there for a second, almost in disbelief, before turning the water on, hanging his towel on the hook, and stepping into the stream of water.

It wasn’t like André had never seen Nate naked before. He’d seen probably the whole team at some point throughout the season. The team showered together. They changed in the same room. It was bound to happen.

Seeing a teammate aroused, however, was a first for André. The mental picture was not fading from his mind. He couldn’t deny - Nate DID have a nice cock - not that André had seen enough dicks to determine which ones were nice or not. But if he had to choose one that was nice, Nate’s would be his pick.

No. He needed to stop thinking about his teammate’s dick. Sure, André had a feeling he was queer. And sure, he knew that the team would not have an issue with it at all. JT and Josty were literally dating and André had heard rumors of Landy and Mikko having something before André had met either of them.

But André hadn’t found the words to tell the team – or anyone – about himself yet.

He had found it not to be an issue. The less he thought about it, the less he needed to worry about it. So he pushed thoughts involving his sexuality away – not that he was in denial, he just found it easier to not think about it. The less he thought about it, the less pressure he felt to tell everyone. Nate, however, was suddenly complicating this. The mental picture had not faded from André’s mind, and he couldn’t deny the way Nate made his body feel warm. He could be incredibly funny, but in an under-his-breath kind of way. André picked up on this quickly and learned that the closer he was to Nate, the happier he was. He started to understand his inside jokes and quiet chirps. He liked this side of Nate. However, playing on the ice with him was a whole different ball game – the pressure set in and suddenly feelings of intimidation and doubt took over. But thinking of Nate off the ice had helped him with André’s confidence. Remembering that Nate was not only THE Nathan MacKinnon, the powerhouse on the ice, but he was also the guy who loved to chirp Landy for his hair products, who secretly watched Gossip Girl, and who gave the best advice – straight to the point with little sugar coating – helped André rationalize the fact that he was skating next to the superstar.

But Nate was straight, right? Sure, he never talked about girls, but that was just Nate. He liked to keep a lot to himself. Reserved. Reticent. Taciturn. While he could have a good laugh with the team, everyone knew hockey was always on the back of his mind. Even by the way he talked sometimes, André could tell Nate’s mind was elsewhere - probably analyzing a shot over and over again in his head or reconsidering some sort of strategy that would take André days to figure out.

So this was NOT the time to be thinking of Nate as anything other than his teammate. He knew this. He needed to stop. It’s not like André hadn’t ever felt feelings for Nate before. A compliment here and there from him had left André dreaming of Nate on a plane ride or two back to Denver after he had played a good game. And it was fun to be sassy with him sometimes – André wouldn’t have labeled it flirting, because it felt _very_ one-sided, but André never stepped down from a challenge when it came to his words. But when these feelings had arisen in the past, André was able to push them away after a couple of hours and moved on – usually by simply reminding himself that Nate was THE Nate, while André was, well, just André.

A mental image, however, was harder to simply push away. Plus, a tiny part of him in the back of his brain didn’t want to push the image away. But he had to, right? His mind pondered why Nate was so horny in the shower. _Who was he picturing?_ He mused over the thought. Probably some girl. André remembered a sign a young woman was holding in the stands that night. “Nate, will you marry me?” It was probably her. He started humming unconsciously to the tune of Conan Gray’s _Heather._

André couldn’t lie. He wished it was him he had been thinking of.

With that admission, André felt his mind formulate pictures that were hard to ignore. André on his knees, wet under the shower, tongue circling around the tip of Nate’s cock before he swallowed it. Nate gripping André’s curls with one hand, the wall with the other. The view of Nate’s body from below. The moans.

He turned the water off and quickly dried off. Back in the locker room, he slipped into sweatpants and threw on his jacket. He walked past Nate’s stall on the way out – unconsciously (or consciously but in denial) lingering. Nate had cleaned up his stuff, but on closer inspection, André noticed he had left his ID card on the bench. He picked it up at admired the picture of him – unsmiling but still with kind eyes. He knew he would need it – not that Nate wouldn’t be recognized everywhere he went, but because they used their cards to swipe into the arena, and, knowing Nate, he would be here bright and early tomorrow morning before practice to get an early start on the day. André grabbed the card and sent a quick text to Nate on his way out.

> (Andre) _you forgot your keycard at the rink_

Nate didn’t reply.

André contemplated adding “ _also sorry i walked in on you in the shower”_ but decided against it. _That would be weird, right?_ He didn’t want to make the situation bigger than it needed to be. He walked to his car and plugged his phone in, searching for a playlist to play for his drive back home. A text from Nate.

> (Nate) _oh shit, ur right. fuck_

> (André) _it’s ok. i grabbed it_
> 
> (André) _are you planning on going in early tmrw like usual?_

The three dots signaling that Nate was typing appeared, and then disappeared. Appeared again. Disappeared again. André went back to searching for a playlist. He hit shuffle on “Chill Pop” just when he got a response.

> (Nate) _i was…_
> 
> (Nate) _but i don’t have to_

André knew he wanted to go. He went early to every practice. Nate was not the type to miss an early workout. André wondered if Nate had ever slept past 9am in his life.

> (André) _no don’t worry_
> 
> (André) _i can drop it off tonight_

> (Nate) _you don’t have to if you have plans or smthg_

Plans. Fuck. André forgot he had the “midnight dinner” at JT and Josty’s. He didn’t have time to drive home and then to Nate’s apartment. He closed his eyes and rested his head against the headrest. Then, an idea.

> (André) _actually i could go early too if that would be ok_
> 
> (André) _i could use the extra ice time_
> 
> (André) _then i can give you ur card tmrw_

> (Nate) _perfect. i’ll pick u up at 5:45_

_Oh._ André meant he would meet Nate at the rink. He felt a smile form on his lips. Nate wanted to pick him up. If Nate wanted to drive, André wasn’t going to complain. Game time.

> (André) _it’s a date then ;)_

André was kidding. Nate knew that. _Right?_ He drove off to his home to change, grab the gift before heading to JT and Josty’s new apartment.

A text.

> (Nate) _whatever sure_

Butterflies.


	2. Midnight Dinner

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> André visits JT and Josty and they have some advice...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this chapter is like all dialogue ugh

André arrived at the apartment a little past 10:30. He shut off his car after parking in the driveway and sat for a second, collecting his thoughts. _Not too late,_ he told himself – now that he had plans at 5:45 the next morning. His right hand was still shaking, probably from the lingering adrenaline he had accumulated throughout the game they had played that night.

Stepping out of his car, he approached the porch. The apartment was larger than he was expecting. The lights were on in the front windows, and one bedroom on the floor above. André noted that their apartment was two-stories. In the chilly air, his breath made a cloud as he exhaled while pressing the doorbell.

Two seconds later, a smiley Tyson opened the door and was embracing André. “Hey buddy, so glad you could make it!”

“Oh, be careful though,” said André, who extended his right arm out to hold his menial gift away from Tyson’s body.

“What’s this?” asked Tyson, taking the small package from André’s hand.

André rocked on his heels. “Just something for the new place.”

Tyson lifted the lid of the box and pulled out a pot containing two small cacti. “Oh my gosh, it’s a cactus!” He turned over his shoulder to shout into the kitchen, “JT, he brought us a cactus!”

JT yelled back, “Oh that’s so nice!”

“I figured it would be pretty easy to take care of, considering how often we’re out of town.”

“That’s so sweet, thank you.”

JT popped his head from around the corner at the end of the hallway. “Are you going to invite him in?”

“Oh my gosh, of course! Sorry I got distracted by the gift,” giggled Tyson.

“That doesn’t shock me,” retorted JT as everyone made their way to the kitchen. André sat himself down on one of the stools that sat before a long counter that separated the living room from the kitchen.

“This place is amazing!” André said as his eyes made their way around the room. The living room featured a large couch with a flat screen on the wall in front of it. Behind the couch was a circular table that André assumed they ate their meals at. The whole back wall was made up of windows looking into the quaint backyard that was illuminated by the light from inside the house. The living room extended up to the second floor, while a staircase around the corner led up to the bedrooms upstairs.

“We’re still unpacking,” commented JT as he returned to the kitchen, “which is taking a little longer than we expected. Who would have thought deciding to move into a new apartment mid-season would be a little stressful?”

Tyson sat on a stool next to André, still bouncing with energy. “I hope you’re hungry,” said JT as he opened the oven, pulling out a pan of chicken breasts. “I told Josty to remind you not to eat before the game.”

“Oh, yeah, Josty definitely told me,” André responded, masking the sarcasm. Tyson winked at André – a silent _thank you for not telling my boyfriend that i totally forgot to remind you not to eat_.

“Smells good, Jim,” said Tyson. JT rolled his eyes at him, hating that nickname.

“So… midnight dinner is just dinner… at 11 pm?”

Tyson laughed, “Well, when you put it like that, it sounds kind of lame.” They carried the food to the table and all sat down.

“We’ve been doing this forever,” explained JT, “since we lived in the rookie house together. We both realized that for night games we were always a little too anxious to really eat anything before games.”

“So one night we just decided to make a big meal after the game late at night, and it kinda became a tradition,” added Tyson, as he spooned veggies onto his plate. “We’ve tried to invite teammates throughout the season to dinner to get to know the team better.”

“I really like that idea,” replied André.

“Yeah, and it’s pretty convenient considering we can’t really go out after games anyway, with those Saturday morning practices.”

“Speaking of practice,” chimed André, “guess who got roped into a 5:45 early practice with Nate tomorrow morning.”

JT raised and eyebrow at Tyson. “Roped into?”

“Yeah, I found his ID card that he had left behind in the locker room tonight and instead of me driving all the way over there tonight to drop it off, he just suggested he’d pick me up tomorrow morning.”

“Interesting,” said Tyson, suddenly holding his giggles in the back of his throat. André still noticed. “What?”

“Nothing,” said Tys smugly.

“What’s up with you two?” asked JT, leaning back in his chair.

André set his fork down. “Me and Nate? Uhh… nothing,” he responded innocently. André took another bite of his food.

Tyson raised his eyebrows now. “Nothing? No brojobs?” André almost spit out the green bean in his mouth, which was now caught in the back of his throat causing him to choke. “What the fuck is a brojob?”

Both Tyson and JT burst into laughter. André was thoroughly confused. “No way,” said JT. Tyson realized André wasn’t joking. “Wait you actually don’t know?”

“You know, when you aren’t really getting any action, and your buddy is there and in the same boat…” started JT.

“So you help each other out…” finished Tyson.

André’s eyes widened a little. “By?”

JT laughed again. Tyson helped him out. “By sucking each other’s cocks, Burky.”

_Oh._ André eyebrows flinched at his answer. The word made more sense now. But what didn’t make sense was that they thought that Nate and him were giving each other blowjobs.

“You’ve never had a brojob?” asked Tyson, and André’s silence as he was stuck in his thoughts was enough of an answer. “I don’t mean to assume but like, _you_ , of all people… with that face…you’ve never? Like what?”

“Ok, Tys, stop short-circuiting.”

“I’m sorry, I’m just surprised.”

“So you guys both thought that me and Nate were…”

“The idea had been floated, yes… but we weren’t sure. That’s why we asked.”

André for sure felt his cheeks warm up again and he knew he was turning pink. _Why do my cheeks have to do this?_ “Are… brojobs… like a normal thing?”

“Uh… yeah,” responded Tyson, “in the NHL at least,” he added. “I mean, what do you think Mikko’s always up to at Landy’s house?”

André shrugged, “Video games?” he suggested innocently. Tyson laughed.

“You have to understand,” explained JT, “there’s like an unspoken agreement – no feelings involved. It’s just bros helping out bros.”

“Wait so it’s not like a gay thing?”

“Well, I mean gay people do it, but no, you don’t have to be gay to get or give a brojob.”

André processed this. He had never even heard of this word and now he was being told that having a cock down a guy’s throat did not automatically mean the person was gay.

Tyson added, “I mean, when Mat Barzal and I were living together a couple summers ago, we were blowing each other like every other night.” Tyson smiled, “But Mat’s like the straightest guy I know.”

“And,” JT added, looking over at Tyson, “Brojobs were kinda how Tys and I became more than roommates.” JT looked at Tyson and raised his eyebrow, leaving room to explain more but checking for approval.

Tyson smiled back, “It’s ok, you can say it.”

“Josty practically begged me the first time.”

“I did not beg,” retorted Tyson, “it’s just I had been imagining it for like four months and then you came out in just your underwear to grab some water before bed and I couldn’t help myself anymore.”

“I remember some begging…” replied JT, and André smiled a little bit, still processing. “And then we just kept doing it…like every night…until one day I was like ‘Are we dating?’ and Tys was like ‘I guess so…’”

“I guess we were kinda an exception,” added Tyson, “most brojobs don’t have feelings connected to them, but ours kinda did. Like immediately. I guess it depends on the people involved.”

“Well,” André said, finally finding his voice again, “Nate and I have _not_ been blowing each other. I’m sure Nate has no interest in something like that with me.”

Tys looked over at JT. “But there’s interest on your side?” he asked quietly.

André looked up and suddenly felt like – he didn’t even know what. Cracks in a jar. His eyes darted around the room, looking for something to focus on before they started to water until he couldn’t see the lamp they had settled on. He didn’t know why he was crying but tears were forming and he was feeling overwhelmed.

“Hey, hey, hey, it’s ok,” said JT, glaring harshly at Josty for pushing André a little too far.

“Let’s, uh, move to the couch, eh?” asked Josty, getting up and leading André to sit in between the two of them on the couch.

“I don’t know why I’m crying.” His voice was shaky. He wiped the tears from his cheeks, eyes puffy. “I _hate_ crying.” That was true. André was a control freak when it came to his emotions and this sudden flooding of sentiment felt like a loss of control. Tys and JT hugged him on each side. “We’re here if you want to talk, but also no pressure.”

André contemplated. He wanted to talk; he just didn’t know where to start. He leaned his head back on the couch and stared at the ceiling above him, the tears pooling in his eyes. His mouth started moving before he had even processed what he was saying.

“I like him, I think.” A pause. “And I think I probably have for a while now.” He felt his eyebrow twitch. “I guess I’ve kinda been pushing away my feelings though – which _I know_ is probably not that healthy. It’s just been easier for me to just not think about it, because if you think about it, then you have to address it, and once you address it, it’s real and there’s no going back.” Tyson squeezed André’s hand. JT looked up at him. “Burky,” he said quietly, “I’ve been there. Literally in that same boat, and I’m not going to lie, it fucking sucks. But you’re right, it’s not healthy and it makes you fucking miserable.”

Tyson chimed in, “I was 10 years old when I realized I was bi. I beat myself up about it for ten years before I told anyone and, on the other side of it now, I wish I had talked to someone about it. Keeping a secret like that for 10 years was probably the most taxing thing I’ve ever experienced, and we literally all have gone through training week.” He giggled for a second.

JT added, “Of course – there’s no rush. Everyone comes out at their own pace.”

“And if you’re still figuring it out, that’s ok too.”

André had been staring at the ceiling for a while. “I think…” his voice shook, “I think I’m gay.” He exhaled. His shoulders dropped.

There was silence for a while before JT thought of something to say. “Okay,” replied JT, “welcome to the club.” Even André laughed a little.

André felt better. “You guys are the first people I’ve ever told,” he breathed out a sigh of relief. “I haven’t even said the word out loud before.”

Tyson smiled at him, “Well, we’re honored to be the first recipients of the news. And when you’re ready to tell the rest of the team, we’ll be at your side cheering you on.”

André hugged each of them. “I appreciate that. I don’t think I’m there yet to tell everyone, but I do feel better having told someone.”

JT added, “And as for Nate – don’t worry about it. He was like one of the most excited people for Josty and me when we came out. I was pretty surprised at his reaction – not that I thought he wouldn’t be okay with it, but he was like smiley in a way I had never seen before.”

“I think he’s secretly a softie,” added Tyson, “He texted me afterwards and invited me to the secret NHL bisexual groupchat.”

_Did he hear that right?_ André sat up suddenly. “Wait, he invited you? Like he was a member himself?”

Tyson giggled. “Yeah, Nate’s bi – or at least something, I’m pretty sure. I guess I never asked him but everyone on the team kinda suspected he and Barrie had something going on for a while before he was traded and it got complicated and then, well…” Tyson looked up at André, “A couple of us – mainly just JT and I – thought that maybe there was something going on between him and you.”

“Which we now know there isn’t,” added JT. He stopped speaking, but then realized he had left it on a dark note, so he continued his sentence, “…but that doesn’t mean there never will be.”

“I don’t know,” responded André, “I get such mixed messages from him; I literally don’t know if he likes me or if he just tolerates me as his teammate.”

“You’re kidding, right?” Tyson stared at him; eyebrows raised, mouth agape. “He _definitely_ likes you, dude. I mean, did you see him in the locker room tonight?”

_Yeah, I saw a lot of him in the locker room tonight._

“He was bouncing off the walls.”

“Yeah,” conceded André, “but that’s game-focused Nate. He was excited because we won. He liked me because I skated well and scored points.”

“André, there’s more to you than the fact that you play hockey. Both you and Nate know that.”

André’s mind floated back to the locker room, post-game. Nate’s smile. His eyes crinkled in happiness. The fucking compliment. The shower.

“I mean, I’ve tried to send like a signal or something,” André admitted, “Like I’ll be all sassy with him and push his buttons sometimes, but I feel like it’s always so one-sided.”

JT chimed in, “I think that’s just part of his personality. You could probably say the same thing about me – Josty can be sassy, and dare I say, a little bratty sometimes. I’m pretty sarcastic on the other hand and keep my thoughts to myself. But I feel like our opposites compliment each other… when he’s not driving me crazy.”

“Oh come on, you like it when I push your buttons,” Tyson responded, “Jimothy.”

JT rolled his eyes. “I think, Burky, it’s probably less one-sided than you think. I think Nate is the kind of person to make it clear when he’s annoyed by someone. I mean half the league is terrified of him.”

“He’s taken a liking to you,” added Tys, “Just see where it leads is my advice. Maybe a great friendship, maybe something more…”

Tyson’s words reverberated in André’s mind for the rest of the night. That and the thought of brojobs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok sorry for sad!andré but he needed to get those feelings off his chest before he could move forward. next chapter is still being written so might take a little longer to be up but prepare for flirty!andre


	3. Morning Skate

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this took so long to get up, i had to figure out where i wanted to go with this!

5:45 came so much faster than André wanted it to. Rolling out of bed, he brushed his teeth quickly and splashed some water on his face to try and wake up a little. He threw on a sweatshirt over his pajamas since all his skating gear was already at the rink. All he needed was Nate’s ID card and his own. Walking down the stairs to the front door, he heard Nate’s car pull into the driveway. He grabbed the handle of the door and–

Froze.

_Deep breath_. _You can do this._ He prepared a mental picture of what Nate would look like so he wouldn’t be caught off guard the moment he opened the door and set eyes on him.

He opened the door just as Nate was getting out of his car.

“Hey!” André said, a little too loudly and immediately regretted it. _Hey? That was the best you could come up with?_ His eyes landed on Nate’s face and he looked better than he had pictured. He had an Avalanche sweatshirt on as well, but had paired it with a pair of gray shorts that showed off his thighs. “Hi” was the response.

André jumped in the passenger seat of Nate’s car. André was into cars and Nate’s was breathtaking. Luxury was all that could come to André’s mind as he looked around at the fancy knobs, buttons, and screens before him.

Nate got back into the driver’s seat and looked over at André. “Well _you_ look awful.”

André looked up in astonishment. Those were not the first words he wanted to hear from Nate on what he had jokingly (but not-so-jokingly) called a date. His face must have showed his disbelief because Nate immediately looked concerned.

“Sorry, no- I just mean, uh- it’s early and, well, you look a little…tired I guess.”

André was sure he did. He couldn’t remember what time he had gotten home from JT and Josty’s but he felt like he had gotten three hours of sleep. “At least I dressed for January.”

Nate looked down at his shorts and laughed. “What can I say, shorts are comfy.”

“Yeah, in July,” retorted André, smiling for the first time that morning. André looked over at him again as he pulled out of the driveway and got on the road. “Oh, here’s your ID card by the way,” André said as he shoved his hand into his pocket and pulled out the card. He set it down in the compartment below the radio screen.

“Thanks,” Nate said. He then noticed André was looking at the photo on the card. “I hate that photo of me,” he added.

“What? Why?”

“I’m not smiling. I feel like they told everyone but me to smile that day, so I just look angry.” André pulled out his own card and sure enough, he was smiling in his photo. “I think you look tough.”

“Well, I always look tough,” said Nate, “but thank you.” Nate turned on his blinker and turned right at the subsequent intersection. André didn’t notice that it was not the way he normally took – he was distracted by Nate’s hands on the wheel. He’d never noticed them before, but they were big – definitely bigger than André’s – and suddenly all he wanted to do was reach out and hold one in his own. Nate turned again and André finally realized that this was not the way to the rink. “Where are you going?”

“Uh…,” said Nate, turning one more corner, allowing his destination to be in sight. “You’re still like half-awake so I thought you could use some coffee.” André noticed the Starbucks up ahead and felt his cheeks warm a little. _That was considerate_.

“Oh, cool,” said André. _Cool? Seriously?_

“It’s no Tim Horton’s, but it’ll do.”

“I wouldn’t know.”

Nate turned to look at André as he pulled into the drive-through. “What do you mean?”

“I’ve actually never been to a Tim Horton’s,” André admitted.

“No way.”

“Well, there’s not one anywhere near Denver and when I was in D.C., they didn’t have one either.”

“But we’ve played in Canada before…”

“Yeah, I just never got around to getting there.”

Nate was in disbelief. He pulled out his phone as the car ahead of them placed their order. “February 6th.”

“What?”

“February 6th. We’re playing the Senators. Ottawa’s got like a hundred Timmy’s. You’re coming with me then.”

André smiled. “Alright. It’s a plan.” Nate pulled the car up and ordered two hot coffees for the two of them. André reached into his pocket and pulled out his credit card. He handed it to Nate.

“Absolutely not.”

“What? You’re driving, I can cover coffee.”

“You’re only awake because of me. I’m paying.” Nate looked too serious to argue with, so André conceded. His insistence felt new to André – almost like the affection was… reciprocal? He wondered where this was coming from, and then had a small revelation that he quickly tried to push away. _Was this actually a date?_ André had jokingly called it one over text, but it couldn’t possibly actually be…right? “Then I’m paying for Tim Horton’s when we go.”

“Ok, fair.”

* * *

The coffee warmed André’s throat and woke him up enough that he felt ready to workout with Nate before practice. Nate had parked in the parking garage, near where André always parked his car, and they made their way to the locker room.

Hitting the ice, André looked to Nate for direction as to what to do. Nate got down on his knees and began stretching, extending his left leg and lowering his body to stretch his quads and calves. He did the same for the other leg and André followed in suit. Nate watched as André’s tongue stuck out of the corner of his mouth as he stretched.

They stayed silent, but Nate appreciated the company. He was usually here on the ice this early alone, so having someone to practice with was a blessing – even if they weren’t that talkative. There was an unspoken connection between the two of them. Their presence was enough.

They practiced one-on-one. André defended against Nate as he skated toward the goal and then they switched positions after a shot. Considering the hecticness of morning skate, André found this return to the basics useful and refreshing. Plus, Nate’s advice from the game last night was still ringing in his head. _You just gotta shoot more and you’ll be good._

He shot. And shot. And shot. Nate put up a good fight, getting a stick on a few of the shots, but André was slipping some past him. Nate’s speed still amazed André – he was big _and_ fast – and trying to get past him was not an easy feat.

After what felt like an hour, they took a water break. It was only 6:55 and morning skate didn’t start until 7:45. “What were you up to last night?” Nate asked. “You still seem tired.”

André was slightly panting from the workout. “JT and Josty invited me over for dinner after the game, and we…” he tried to think of the right word, “ _chatted_ for a while.” André looked over at Nate for a reaction. “I probably stayed a little too late.”

“That’s nice,” Nate replied, not taking the bait to probe further about what the chatting was about.

They returned to silence. André adjusted his laces and they decided to get back to it. André’s mind, however, drifted elsewhere. Skating in Nate’s presence – watching him get all aggressive when defending against André – was making André feel all hot and bothered. The mental picture of MacKinnon in the shower had not disappeared and was now occupying André’s mind. He wanted to see it again. He wanted to feel it in his hand, his mouth, his ass.

André skated past Nate but missed the wide-open goal. Nate knew something was up. “Dude, are you okay? You seem… distracted.” André shrugged. “I’m fine. Just a little tired.” Nate didn’t buy it. “Are you sure? Your mind seems elsewhere.”

André shifted on his skates and stared at the ice below him. His mouth began talking before his brain could stop it. “Have you ever had a brojob?”

Nate is caught off-guard and giggles slightly. He looked at André, who was still staring down at his skates. “No, I haven’t.” Then he jokingly added, “Why? Are you offering?”

André looks up at him and says, very seriously, “Yes.”

Nate smiles, assuming André is joking, but quickly realizes he’s not. Nate’s mind is scrambling, not knowing how to respond. Then, a loud bang, and suddenly Gabe and EJ were on the bench, calling out to the two of them on the ice.

André looked away from Nate, hiding the tears forming in his eyes. _What was he thinking?_ “Uhh…nevermind. That was stupid.” He skated away from Nate, over to Gabe, putting on a fake smile to greet him teammates.

André avoided Nate for the rest of morning skate as much as he could. He felt so ridiculous for asking Nate. JT noticed that André was in a bad mood but André made it _very_ clear he did not want to talk about it, so JT stayed out of it. André just needed to cool off, alone. His team suddenly felt very claustrophobic and André started to breathe faster under his helmet, feeling his body heat up and his visor fog up.

He needed to get off the ice. Luckily, he heard a whistle blown and he knew that meant morning skate was over. He rushed to the locker room and got his gear off. His eyes avoided Nate’s side of the room. He just wanted to get out of there without making a bigger fool of himself.

But _fuck_. He didn’t drive here. Nate did. Nate was his ride. _No no no no no no no._

André got dressed, trying to keep himself together. Suddenly, Nate was standing behind him as he packed up his bag. “Hey, can we talk?”

André couldn’t look at him. “You’re my ride so…” he trailed off. He heard the shakiness in his voice that he always got before he was about to cry. He tried to push away the feelings, but he just felt so stupid. Nate waited for André to finish packing up and then they headed to his car. Nate got in the driver’s seat as André jumped in the passenger seat, keeping his eyes forward out the windshield, avoiding Nate.

Nate sighed. His brain was trying to figure out what he wanted to say and the words weren’t coming. André was growing fidgety as they sat there. Nate hadn’t even turned on the car. Then, he began to speak. “Hey,” he started, “I’m sorry I thought you were joking earlier. Your… _offer_ …just caught me off-guard.”

André kept his eyes forward. “You don’t need to apologize. I don’t know what I was thinking.” He paused, exhaling before he started to talk with no end in sight. “JT and Josty were just talking about it like it was such a normal thing and I thought maybe you’d be interested but of course you’re not and that’s totally okay, like I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable or put you in an awkward position-”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, when did I say I wasn’t interested? I’m _definitely_ interested.”

André almost short-circuited, not registering what had just been said. _Wait did he just say he wants a blowjob from me?_

Nate continued. “I just thought you were straight this whole time and I didn’t want to make our relationship weird.”

André finally looked at him, finding the words he’s been holding back for too long. “I was thinking the exact same. I’ve been crushing on you for so long. I just didn’t want to dwell on it because I assumed it would never happen.”

“I thought I was making it so obvious,” replied Nate. “I mean you literally walked in on my jerking off to you in the shower.” André felt his jaw drop. “Sorry if that’s a weird thing to say.”

“No, not at all,” André said, still in shock at where this conversation was going. “That moment kinda reactivated my feelings for you that I’d been repressing for a while. And I think solidified the fact in my mind that I’m gay.”

“My dick turned you gay?”

André laughed. “No, but your dick helped me realize and admit that I’m gay.”

“Well, my dick is honored.”

André felt his face smile for the first time in what felt like ages. Nate turned on the car and pulled out of the parking spot. “Hey, what are you doing for the rest of the day?” André asked.

“I don’t have anything planned. I was probably just going to watch the tape of the game last night.”

“Do you want to come over instead?”

Nate smiled. “Yes, I would love that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i promise they will eventually get together haha  
> sorry for slow burn but hopefully is worth the wait!


	4. Finally.

Nate couldn’t wait past the doorframe. André felt Nate’s hands on his waist and suddenly his back was against the wall. Nate’s lips met his and André melted into his grip, letting Nate guide his body as they kissed. Nate’s tongue made its way into André’s mouth and he realized the nerves he sometimes got around Nate had disappeared. Nate was kissing him back. That’s all he needed to know.

André abruptly felt Nate pull away from him. “Sorry,” he started, “I don’t mean to stop, but I think we should clarify something.”

André used the interruption to pull his sweatshirt off and make his way to his couch. He sat down and observed Nate, waiting for him to continue.

“It’s just that with brojobs–” Nate contemplated how to finish his next sentence. “It’s usually like an unspoken rule that, you know, there’s no feelings attached. It’s just two bros helping each other out and that’s it.” André nodded, understanding the assumption. Nate looked up at André’s face, a flash of apprehension appearing on his face. “I...just don’t think I can do this without feeling something. And I wanted you to know that before we did anything.”

André smiled. “Nate, I’ve been feeling something for so long now. Trust me, the feelings are mutual. This won’t just be a brojob. I promise.” Nate returned the smile, nodding in agreement.

“Okay. Let’s do this then.” He leaned back further into the couch and slid his hand down his body, arriving at his crotch. He palmed himself with his right hand, maintaining eye contact with Burky.

André had never done this before, but he had wanted to for so long. He slid off the couch onto his knees and made his way over to Nate, his hands resting on each of Nate’s muscular thighs. André sat there in awe for a moment as he watched Nate touch himself through his shorts, a considerable bulge growing.

André reached for the hem of Nate’s t-shirt, signaling to Nate that he wanted it off – _now_. Nate obliged, sliding his shirt over his head, revealing his muscled torso. André had seen his body many times, but now he was finally able to touch it. His hands made their way to Nate’s shoulders, gripping the powerful muscles. He explored Nate’s physique, eventually sliding down his midriff to the waistband of Nate’s shorts. He tugged on it, but looked up at Nate with a cocked eyebrow for a sign of permission.

Nate was smiling.

André’s heart was suddenly pounding from happiness. Jitters coursed through his fingers as he slid off Nate’s shorts. Butterflies filled his throat as he pulled off his own shirt to match Nate’s state of undress.

Nate’s cock stood at attention in his boxer briefs. André quickly freed it from its constraint and now found himself staring at Nathan MacKinnon’s dick. His mind flashed back to the fantasy he had pictured in the shower. André could now make his fantasy of choking on Nate’s cock a reality.

“You okay?” Nate asked, looking down at André, who was just staring at his cock.

André shook himself from his thoughts. “Yes, sorry. Just got distracted by what’s in front of me. Lots to think about.” André turned his attention back to Nate’s cock. His hand wrapped around the base and began to slowly stroke it. He liked how it felt in his hand. It was weird, no doubt, to have a cock other than his own in the palm of his hand, but André was focused more on the noises Nate was making under his breath.

Nate, beginning to rock his hips into André’s curled fingers, began to grow impatient. His hand reached down and found the back of André’s head. He couldn’t help it. He grabbed a handful of André’s hair and directed André’s mouth to his cock.

André appreciated the guidance. Something about being in Nate’s hands made him feel…excited. His lips now almost touching the head, André used his tongue to lick the tip of Nate’s cock. He liked taunting Nate, and from the sounds of it, he was enjoying it as well. “Fuck…” was all Nate could get out at the moment.

André prepared himself for the next step and convinced himself he was ready. With Nate’s hand still guiding the back of his head, André wrapped his lips around Nate’s cock, taking his member as deep as he could – deeper than he _thought_ he could – until he felt it hit the back of his throat and he had to catch himself from gagging.

It wasn’t comfortable, but André was enjoying it – swallowing, choking, backing off, repeat. His tongue explored around the new object occupying his mouth. All Nate could focus on – when his eyes weren’t closed from the pleasure – was André’s face. His cheeks had flushed completely, along with his lips, as he struggled to swallow Nate’s dick. His eyes, too, were teary. He looked absolutely wrecked, but Nate knew the both of them were enjoying this completely.

André found a rhythm, and had added a hand at the base of Nate’s cock to increase the pleasure. Nate was feeling good – like _really_ good – and he knew he wasn’t going to last much longer. He looked down at André one more time to give him a warning and was surprised to find him pulling off.

Their eyes met, and André suddenly seemed nervous again. Nate was confused.

“All good?”

“Yeah,” said Burky, running a hand through his hair. He seemed to want to say more, but held his tongue.

“You sure?”

“Would you maybe want to go a little further?” André’s brown eyes softly stared at Nate’s face, gaging his reaction.

Nate’s eyebrows raised. “Like, how further?”

André kept his eyes on Nate’s face, answering the question with his gaze.

Nate asked, “Like _fucking_ -futher?”

André felt the corners of his mouth curve into a slight smirk. “Yeah…if that wou–”

“–I’d love to.”

André’s smirk morphed into a full-fledged smile as he jumped onto Nate’s lap, bringing his lips to Nate’s. In a few moments, Nate was standing – André’s arms draped over his shoulders, his legs wrapped around his waist, his thighs squeezing his torso. Nate carried André to his bedroom, dropping him down on the comforter.

André gestured to the bedside table as he laid on his back. Nate went over and found a condom and a bottle of lube in a drawer – right next to a large dildo. Nate took a mental picture of the sex toy, saving the imagined thoughts of André fucking himself with it for another time when he’d be alone, missing him.

André spent the time on the bed sliding his sweatpants off, revealing his red briefs. He was ready for Nate to be inside him and he felt his cock twitch at the thought of it. He looked down to find his cock was already leaking precum, creating a wet spot in his briefs.

Nate had returned and stood at the foot of the bed. His hands had found the waistband of André’s underwear as he flipped over onto his back. He peeled off the tight briefs, revealing André’s muscled but curvy ass. Nate hadn’t seen _that_ many male asses, but he knew a good one when he saw one (like half of his team’s), and André’s was leaving him speechless for a second. He slipped the briefs off André’s long legs and grabbed the bottle of lube.

André sat up and reached for the bottle. “Do you mind if I do that? You can watch…”

“Go for it,” said Nate, holding the bottle out and squeezing some lube into Andre’s hand. He spread the cool lube around his fingers and then got to work. After sliding some lube around the rim of his ass first, André slowly penetrated his asshole with one finger, holding his cheeks apart with his other hand. He wasn’t going to lie to himself– he was totally playing up the moans that were escaping his mouth, but he knew Nate was enjoying it so he kept up the noise.

Nate’s eyes hadn’t left André’s hole since he had started. His hand had drifted down to his cock again, stroking slowly, watching André pleasure himself in front of him as he prepared to take Nate inside of him.

André added another finger and began to stretch his hole wider by spreading the two fingers apart. He was also now thrusting his fingers further into his body, finding his favorite pleasure spot. Nate was practically drooling. Another two fingers, and André was ready. Nate grabbed the condom and slipped it on before applying more lube to his own cock.

André lifted his legs in the air, resting his feet on Nate’s shoulders while Nate’s hands found André’s hips. Nate carefully began to enter him.

Words – or more like sounds and noises – were slipping out of both of their mouths, and both had little control of what they were saying. Nate had pushed all the way in and was practically shaking at how good it felt. André was tight – like _really_ tight – and Nate waited a few moments inside of him for André’s body to adjust before he pulled out.

“Please…” André was moaning. “Fuck me please.” He kept unconsciously switching between Swedish and English, but Nate understood generally what he was begging for. Nate gladly complied, beginning to slowly thrust into André.

Both boys melted into each other, finding a rhythm that was mutually pleasurable. André liked it fast, and Nate liked to vary his speed – taking his time when he wanted to and speeding up when André begged him to go faster.

_I am his._ André repeated the phrase in his mind. _Finally, I am his_.

Nate approached orgasm pretty quickly, considering André had been sucking him off earlier. With a quick warning from Nate, he was cumming inside André. André’s hand had already gravitated to his own cock and was stroking himself. He finished not too long after Nate, covering his own torso and Nate’s chest with streams of cum.

Nate slid out of André, tied the condom, and collapsed on to the bed next to him. They were exhausted, but incredibly content.

André giggled. “Brojobs are overrated. Sex is much better.”

“For sure,” said Nate, locking eyes with him. “Wanna do it again sometime?”

“You’re kidding right?” responded André. “We’re doing this like as often as possible now.”

Nate laughed. “Sounds like a plan.”

André spent the night in Nate’s arms, coming to the realization that his mental pictures had finally become his reality.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi again  
> sorry it has been ages since i posted an update but i finally finished it!  
> i hope you liked it and all feedback is greatly appreciated :)


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